[Such a reckless thing; Mello always has been. L stays the impulse to push the poison he picked away from his lips, because after the things he’s saying, doubtless not even grazing what goes unsaid, perhaps a drunken stupor is a mercy. Perhaps L will seek it himself when he’s sure he can stare into the abyss alone.
His expression is difficult to parse, though it’s far from his typical poker face. There’s conflict and uncertainty in it, questions he never got an answer to from his own mentor figure.
Pride and reality quarrel for a spell. If Mello is still blind to the latter, can L lie and get away with it? Or is the truth something Mello is more attuned to as a drunk?
There is no easy or perfect answer. Mello has judged him to be deficient, based on Myr’s plea and his own observations. L, as a human without his shields and screens and handlers, really is so very disappointing, isn’t he? Ergo, that is the true reason he can’t go back to being the magical, grand thing immortalized in a child’s golden memory.]
Listen.
[Lean close; he won’t speak more loudly.]
I don’t say this out loud, and I won’t again. The world that made us, like this one, relies on balance. Every gift comes with a price. Every moment you spend studying one subject comes at the expense of another. Every choice you make closes infinite opportunities to you forever. You know this, but you aren’t special that way.
[Now he does take the bottle from Mello, eyes narrowed and lightless.]
If I’m helpless, it’s no more than anyone else is.
[And Mello has seen the gift L possesses, that flawless star system that spits out numbers and churns through possibilities faster than light cuts through space. Its only real weakness is that a human being is connected to it, and occasionally comes close to following the distant calls of sirens or stars or bells.]
no subject
His expression is difficult to parse, though it’s far from his typical poker face. There’s conflict and uncertainty in it, questions he never got an answer to from his own mentor figure.
Pride and reality quarrel for a spell. If Mello is still blind to the latter, can L lie and get away with it? Or is the truth something Mello is more attuned to as a drunk?
There is no easy or perfect answer. Mello has judged him to be deficient, based on Myr’s plea and his own observations. L, as a human without his shields and screens and handlers, really is so very disappointing, isn’t he? Ergo, that is the true reason he can’t go back to being the magical, grand thing immortalized in a child’s golden memory.]
Listen.
[Lean close; he won’t speak more loudly.]
I don’t say this out loud, and I won’t again. The world that made us, like this one, relies on balance. Every gift comes with a price. Every moment you spend studying one subject comes at the expense of another. Every choice you make closes infinite opportunities to you forever. You know this, but you aren’t special that way.
[Now he does take the bottle from Mello, eyes narrowed and lightless.]
If I’m helpless, it’s no more than anyone else is.
[And Mello has seen the gift L possesses, that flawless star system that spits out numbers and churns through possibilities faster than light cuts through space. Its only real weakness is that a human being is connected to it, and occasionally comes close to following the distant calls of sirens or stars or bells.]